


Ten Things I'd Do To You If You Weren't An Angel

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Boot Worship, D/s, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairly strong D/s, bondage, bootworship, spanking, rimming, and, well, it's angel!porn.  Dean/Castiel.  And misuse of a park bench.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Things I'd Do To You If You Weren't An Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I . . . um . . . borrowed the idea for this fic from a pair of stories over at Xander Xtreme titled Ten Things I'd Do To You If We Weren't Friends. So, I borrowed the premise, and I do not own anything except the words and a gleeful joy at the thought of Castiel not knowing how to blow his nose.

1.  kiss you in the middle of one of your long winded explanations

He's talking and talking, trying to explain morality and right and wrong to someone who long ago decided that morality is what you decide it will be, that only the individual can say what is right or wrong for them.  Dean rolls his eyes, and waits, wishing there was some way he could stop the long-winded angel.

The devil puts a spark in his eye, and Dean leans over on the park bench and kisses Castiel.

The angel freezes, his eyes wide as Dean gentles his mouth over Cas's, persuades him to open his mouth and let Dean in.  There is confidence and ownership in the kiss, a sort of purposeful seduction.  Finally Cas moves closer, hands making involuntary fists in Dean's shirt, head tilting back to allow Dean access to whatever he desires.

Dean nips at Cas's lower lip and pulls back, wrapping a hand around Castiel's neck.

2.  put you on your knees and make you kiss my shoes

With gentle pressure, Dean moved Castiel off the bench.  He took a moment to be thankful that this was not the right time of day for children to be running around the park and pressed down, urging Cas to his knees.  Castiel went, turning his face up in anticipation of another kiss.  Dean stroked over his mouth with a thumb, then put his hand on the top of Castiel's head and pushed down, turning Cas's face to the ground.

“Show me how devoted you are,” he commands, his voice soft.  Castiel's blue eyes glance up at him through an impossibly thick fringe of eyelashes.  His continued downward pressure on the back of Cas's head can mean only one thing.

Licking his lips, Castiel bends his head down, all the way to Dean's feet.  There is a moment of hesitation, a moment when Dean thinks the angel will burst forth in all his glory and smite the living hell out of Dean, but then the moment passes and Cas presses a soft kiss to the top of Dean's boot.  There is a pause, then Castiel moves and kisses the other one, just as reverently.  Another pause, and then Cas is kissing Dean's boots as fast as he can, as if he's afraid to stop, afraid to displease Dean.

“Good,” Dean whispers, his fingers finding and threading through Castiel's hair.  Castiel shudders beneath his hand, but stays on his knees, head bent in submission to Dean.

3.  pull you up by your hair and bend you over the nearest flat surface

With a sudden growl, Dean rises to his feet and pulls Castiel up by the hair, all in one motion.  Cas looks at him for a moment, stricken, but Dean pauses only long enough to release his grip in Cas's hair and step to the side so he can push the angel down.  Cas grabs the back of the bench out of reflex.  Dean smiles.  “Good,” he repeats.  “Stay just like this.”

Dean reaches slowly under the trench coat and around to Castiel's front.  With deft fingers, he unbuckles Castiel's belt and pulls it free.  Flipping the trench coat up, he lays a hand on Castiel's ass.  Cas can't stop the shiver that goes through him.

“If I spank you with this belt, will it hurt?” Dean asks.  “Will you cry for me, your voice hitching as I hit you again?  Or does your grace protect you from anything I might do?”

“It will hurt,” Cas admits softly.  “I will let it hurt.”

4.  spank your ass until you cry

“Spread your legs a little, and don't move,” Dean orders.

As soon as Castiel complies, the belt comes down, a series of slow slaps that don't really hurt.  Castiel tenses, expecting each blow to be the one that starts the pain.

Finally, Dean lets the belt crack down, hard.  Cas flinches involuntarily and a stifled cry escapes his lips.  Dean cracks the belt down again, and Cas blushes when he makes the same noise.  It's beginning to sink in that he, an Angel of the Lord--or a former one, at least--is standing in the middle of a park, clutching a bench, while a mortal spanks his ass with a belt.  And it is humiliating.  But Castiel doesn't want it to stop.

Dean doesn't let up, doesn't ask if Cas is okay.  He just keeps hitting Cas, again and again until Castiel is sure that his ass must be bright red beneath the thin material of his trousers.  Dean hits in a particularly tender spot, and Cas gasps out a sob, ashamed to realize he's been silently crying all this time.  Now that he's started, he can't stop, and he keeps sobbing, even as Dean lets the belt drop and sits on the bench again, settling Castiel on his lap.

5.  collar you and lead you back to my motel room

Dean hushes him and dries his eyes, using a handkerchief Castiel didn't know he carried.  Cas shifts uncomfortably, unwilling to move off Dean's lap, but unable to stay still.  Dean puts a hand over Cas's mouth and for some reason, that settles the angel.

“There, now,” Dean soothes.  “Don't worry.  I know what you need.”

Castiel would ask how Dean knows that, but he doesn't because now Dean's fishing something out of his pocket.  It looks like a strip of leather, worn but well cared for, and with a buckle at one end.  It looks a little like a watch band, only longer.

“Picked this up last time we were at Bobby's,” Dean says absently.

Castiel feels the bottom of his stomach drop out.  Dean's got a collar in his hand.  Surely he can't mean to use it on Castiel?

Dean wraps the worn leather around Castiel's neck.  The buckle closes, and Castiel swallows, hard.  For a minute, he can't breathe, but then Dean leans down and kisses him, and it's all right again.  He can wear this collar for Dean.  He can do anything for Dean.

Dean links their fingers together and helps Cas to stand.  “Come on,” he says.  “I'm nowhere near finished with you yet, and I'm not doing the rest of what I want out here where anyone can walk by.”

Castiel blushes at the thought that someone might have seen them; might have seen them kissing, or seen Castiel worshiping Dean's boots, or worse still, seen the spanking.  But before he can worry about it too much, Dean's pulling him along toward the motel he's staying in.

6.  tie your hands and blindfold you

The walk is mercifully short, and Cas kneels immediately when he's left by the door as Dean walks around the room and picks up a few things.  He doesn't look at what Dean holds in his hands when he approaches again.  Just closes his eyes and waits patiently.

Dean hooks a finger in his collar and tugs him to his feet.  Then there are soft hands smoothing away his coat and the suit jacket, loosening the tie until it can be slipped over his head, running along the buttons on his shirt front and slipping them open silently, sliding the shirt away from his skin, sliding down his legs to help him remove shoes and socks, then running back up his thighs to open the fly of his trousers and send them slipping down over his hips to puddle around his feet.  Then the hands are taking his, walking him forward, forcing him to step out of the pants.  Underwear is tugged down, and Castiel knows that he's erect, can feel the blood pulsing through his penis and groin, and it's strange and frightening and wonderful.

Castiel's hands are released, and Dean walks behind Cas, then slides a silk blindfold over his eyes.  It feels like a silk tie, one that got cut up and slightly reshaped to use for this purpose, and Dean ties it in the back.  It's not a perfect blindfold, Cas can see light from underneath, and Dean's shoes, but it's good enough that he can't see more than that.  And he gets the feeling that the blindfold is less about his inability to see and more about his trust of Dean.  He takes a breath and closes his eyes, trusting Dean fully.

In the mean time, his arms have been pulled backward, and he can feel his wrists and forearms being tied together in what he thinks is called the “downward prayer” position.  Castiel blushes, realizing that he shouldn't know that, good angels are not familiar with bondage terms.  A loop of rope presses his palms together, and another loop secures his thumbs.  The bonds are tugged tight, the knots are tied, and the extra rope is wrapped around and tucked under the knot.

He's not sure why, but there's a lump in his throat as he waits for Dean's next command.  It's almost as if he's been waiting for this his whole existence.

7.  make you wait, naked and kneeling, while I jerk off

Dean stands over Castiel and waits.  Slowly, Cas kneels, feeling the desire even if he does not hear the command.  When he kneels before Dean once again, he feels a hand through his hair, soothing, and hears a whispered, “Good boy.”

There is more silence, then the slow rasp of a zipper being undone, sounds Castiel doesn't recognize but thinks must signify Dean pulling his cock from his pants.  Cas feels his lips part a little in anticipation, but the nudging of Dean's cock against his mouth does not come.  Instead there are fleshy noises, and a few quick, sudden pants from Dean.  A gasp, a bitten-off moan.  Louder flesh noises.  Then a sigh, and a sudden rush of warm liquid over the side of Castiel's face, Dean's hand wiping away his come and then footsteps as he moves away.

Castiel just waits, unable to do anything else, unable to escape, unable to see, able only to wait for Dean, to feel the ratty carpet beneath his knees, the rope around his arms, the cool air of the room on his bare skin.  He takes a deep breath and feels Dean's hands on his shoulders.

“Up,” Dean commands, and Castiel rises.  Dean maneuvers him around until his knees are touching the bed.  “Climb on,” comes the next order, and Castiel hesitates, knowing that to obey is to forsake everything he's been trained into for most of his life.  To obey is to fornicate with Dean Winchester.  And yet, he can do nothing but obey.

8.  lay you on the bed on your stomach and eat you open for my cock

Dean helps him to lie on his stomach, a pillow beneath his hips, trapping his still erect penis.  Dean spreads his legs, crawls up between them.  One warm hand is placed on his back, right in the hollow where the spine tapers to an end.  “Stay still,” Dean orders, his voice too-quiet.  Castiel can't help twitching, but he forces himself to stay as motionless as possible.

“Good,” Dean breathes, then his hands are sliding down Cas' thighs, and he leans slightly forward over Castiel.

Cas swallows, and then there are lips on the fleshy part of his ass, a tongue parting his cheeks, fingers keeping him spread, and the slow lap of Dean's mouth and tongue as he begins to lick at Castiel's hole.  “D-Dean!” Cas stutters in shock and sudden bursts of pleasure.  “Wh-what--?”

“Shh,” Dean soothes, taking a moment to run a hand down Castiel's spine.  Then he goes back to his slow lapping against Castiel's asshole.  Castiel's shuddering and whimpering within a matter of minutes, but Dean doesn't stop until he feels loose and sloppy and open.  At some point Dean added fingers and maybe some lube, but Cas doesn't care about any of that.  He's too busy feeling boneless and used up. “Hey,” Dean murmurs, his voice seeming to come from very far away.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“Stop?” Cas repeats.  “N-no, I--we--that is, you--”

Dean places a finger over Cas' lips and stops the stammering words.  “Okay then.”

9.  slide into you and fuck you, slow, but hard and brutal

There's a long silent moment after that, during which Castiel knows exactly what's going to happen next, and he waits, and waits, and Dean doesn't move, doesn't do anything.  Cas wants to cry and scream and push back and run away and get it over with, but he doesn't.  He can't.  That's not what he needs.  He needs Dean.

With a slow, somehow gentle push, Dean slides inside Castiel, and with a jolt, Cas realizes he's crying.  It's shocking somehow, to find that he, an Angel of the Lord, can cry over something so base and primal and . . . beautiful.  Maybe, he muses, maybe it's just another form of worship.

Dean begins to thrust, shallow and slow, and Castiel moans, helpless and needy, and lets him.  It takes him a few seconds to realize that the gentleness is gone, that Dean's putting all his weight behind each movement.  In a few more minutes it'll start to hurt, but that's okay, because this is Dean inside him, Dean fucking him, and he needs Dean . . . he loves Dean.  He'll do anything for Dean.  Castiel comes with a shocked cry, his voice hitching and turning anguished as he clenches around Dean and Dean comes too.

10.  tell you I love you and make you mine forever

It seems that centuries have passed between his climax and the moment he opens his eyes to find Dean there, pulling off the blindfold and kissing him as he helps Cas to sit up.  “. . . so good, baby, oh, so good for me . . .”  Dean's been murmuring gentle reassurances for a while, Castiel realizes, and what's more, Cas is whimpering.

Dean leans Cas forward over his shoulder as he unties the ropes keeping Castiel's arms immobilized.  As soon as his arms are free, Cas pushes away from Dean, wiping at his eyes.  “S-sorry.  Shouldn't be c-crying.”

“Hey,” Dean frowns, sensing something is wrong but not how to fix it.  “It's all right to cry.”

“Yes,” Castiel snaps, suddenly angry.  “Humans cry about sex all the time.  Particularly the ones who sleep with you.”

Dean looks taken aback for a moment, then he laughs.  “Why Castiel, that was sarcastic!”

Cas sniffs, unsure what to do about the excess of mucus issuing from his nose.  “You and your brother are often sarcastic.  I see no reason to restrain my own urges toward such behavior.”

Dean thinks about this for a second, then gets up and walks into the bathroom.  He comes back with a kleenex and a wet towel.  “Here,” Dean hands Cas the kleenex.  “Blow your nose before you sniff too hard and choke yourself.”  When Cas is done, Dean takes the kleenex and throws it in the trash.  Then he takes the corner of the towel and wipes Castiel's face clean of the sweat and the tears and the snot.  Once he's sure Castiel's face is as clean as he can get it, he moves on to cleaning the rest of Cas.  As soon as he catches on, the angel's hand grabs Dean's wrist to stop him.

“You do not need to do this, Dean.  I--I should learn to take care of myself.”

“What you should learn is that you are wearing my collar,” Dean grumbles, shaking off Cas' restraining hand and continuing his surface cleaning.  “And if you are wearing my collar, I am not going to abandon you, or make you take care of yourself.  We need each other, and--and--and damn it, Cas, if you think I would treat someone as special as you like one of the girls I pick up in bars, you--damn it, Cas!”

There is silence after this declaration--slightly inarticulate as it may have been.  Dean is thinking very hard about what he is going to say if it turns out he's read the signals wrong and this is not some horrible, angelic self-worth problem.  Cas is thinking very hard about whether or not he believes Dean Winchester.  Cas comes to his conclusion first.  It doesn't matter if he believes Dean.  What matters is that Cas trusts Dean, enough to cut out his grace and fall, if necessary.

Dean is slightly shocked--but in no way displeased--when Cas throws his arms around him and kisses him.  Cas is gentle and sweet and subservient, even when he's leading, and Dean thinks that he could definitely get used to this.  Cas pulls back and looks at Dean, and he decides that he has one question.

“Does wearing your collar make me yours?”

“No,” Dean laughs, wrapping a hand around the back of Castiel's neck.  For a moment Cas thinks that he's made a terrible mistake in trusting Dean, and that maybe he'd better high-tail it out of here.  But before he can move, Dean strokes a thumb across Castiel's cheekbone, and the look in his eyes answers every doubt his response may have caused.  “You're mine even without the collar."  
 

 

  



End file.
